I was falling in love the day Utah Phillips died.
He the champion of the beauty and strength of this land
She the body of it, the name and the song of it.

I fell in love and out of the sky the Enola Gay
left it's mist on the water, and Joe Hill's paper heart
fluttered in the breeze, still pinned to his prison shirt.

My heart lodged in the window of the Eldrige Hotel and
the startlight on the rails reflected off of Quantrill's folly
leaving the streets of Lawrence to shine with nobility and grace.

I fell in love because love fell all around me,
took some stories and some pain and some laughter
and left me with an old guitar, a greying beard, and more stories

Than we have years to tell. I fell in love because it haunted me,
because it rose up out of a dream and touched my face and woke me
from the notion that I was powerless, that I was alone, that there was no

Union strong enough to hold me. I fell in love when the morning broke
and the stars fell, the light of a thousand flowers, wild and glorious, on her face.
This was the day that Bruce Phillips died. My son and I had seen a vision of him

Just the day before - not quite serious, of course, the twinkle still in his eye.
I ordered his drink, gin on the rocks, with a splash of tears
as his music, all music swirled around me, still in the fog of loss, the pure joy

Of new life. She held me. I gave her the song that I've been writing for years.
Her song. The one I carried like a child. The one he gave me the passion to write.
The one that says "I love you" and also, "Good buddy, goodnight".

.